


Yuletide Quest:  A Journey of Love

by Scrappy_LeMonte



Category: Beauty and the Beast (TV 1987)
Genre: Adventure, Christmas Fluff, Courtly Love, F/M, Love, Medieval, Quest, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-25
Updated: 2015-12-25
Packaged: 2018-05-09 03:54:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 9,055
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5524421
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Scrappy_LeMonte/pseuds/Scrappy_LeMonte
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Catherine wants to give Vincent a very special Christmas gift, so she works with the Tunnel inhabitants to create a quest of adventures through the ancient ruins Below.  As they face the  challenges of the journey they strengthen their Bond.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter One

The air was crisp, but not biting, and the wind was still. The stars seemed to be closer to the earth than usual, but none twinkled brighter than those in the eyes of her love.

They strolled arm in arm across the rooftops, and looked down on the glittering splendor of New York City sidewalks and businesses decked out in Christmas decorations, and the fabulous window displays of the department stores. The window sills and marquees were frosted with a few inches of snow, and the lines of Christmas lights glistened with a light coating of ice. The sidewalks were as full as they usually were at midday, and the pedestrians were loaded down with shopping bags. On every other corner there stood a Salvation Army kettle, with musicians and carolers performing Christmas carols.

The group of Tunnel Dwellers, past and present, and Helpers, could not have been happier as they enjoyed a roof-top tour of the heart of Manhattan, celebrating the season. For Vincent and Catherine, it had been an hour of softly spoken conversation, hand holding, soft shared laughter, and tender looks. Catherine started to sing, softly,

Strings of street lights  
Even stop lights  
Blink a bright red and green  
As the shoppers rush  
home with their treasures

 

Lin, Henry, Edie, Mr. Smythe, and Bennie joined in,

Hear the snow crunch  
See the kids bunch  
This is Santa's big scene  
And above all this bustle  
You'll hear

 

Vincent bowed to Catherine, and she curtseyed. They waltzed as the group sang,  
Silver bells, (silver bells)  
It's Christmas time in the city  
Ring-a-ling. (hear them ring)  
Soon it will be Christmas day.

 

Vincent gave Catherine a final turn, and as the song ended, they hugged, and laughed. He drew her away from the group.

“Catherine,” he said softly, “I want to give you your Christmas present. Close your eyes, and hold out your hand.”

She did so, smiling. He pulled a silver charm bracelet from a pocket, and fastened it around her wrist. “Open your eyes,” he whispered.

She looked, and could not believe what she saw: a beautiful antique charm bracelet, made of heavy silver links. Five charms, silver painted with enamel, already dangled from it: a rose, a glove, a mirror, a key and a ring. Her jaw dropped open, and eyes popped open wide.

“Vincent! I can’t believe it!”

He smiled. “We found it in some donated clothing. I thought it was very beautiful. I wanted you to have it.”

She shook her head in disbelief. “It is very, very beautiful, Vincent,” she embraced him, “I love it. Thank you, very much. I’ll treasure it.”

He returned her embrace, warmed by her happiness with his gift.

Laura and Jerry signed that they would begin leading the tour to Central Park.

“Ah, here’s where I need to leave,” Catherine said to Vincent.

He looked down at her lovely face, her cheeks and the tip of her nose ruddy in the frosty air. He took her hands in his.

“No, Catherine,” he spoke spontaneously, letting his disappointment show.

“Yes, I have to, I have a Christmas surprise for you, Vincent, and I have to go get it ready,” she answered.

“You can’t stay a little longer?” he implored softly.

“No, I have to go now, you are going to love this so much, I will see you soon,” she stood firm, squeezed his hands, and turned away.

“Are you sure you can climb down by yourself?” he called to her back.

“Very sure,” she sang out, striding away.

He watched her walking away, and his heart melted.


	2. Chapter Two

They stood on the observation deck of Belvedere Castle in Central Park; the moon shone brightly and cast shadows of the trees and walls. They looked around, awed by the stillness around them. No crickets chirped, no birds called, no dogs barked. The few inches of snow coating the buildings and walls worked as a sound dampener. There were no other visitors to the park tonight, but even so, Vincent adjusted his hood to obscure his face.

“It’s so quiet,” said Olivia. “I can feel Christmas magic in the air.” She looked around, and saw a small light flashing from the balcony of one of the apartments overlooking the park. She squeezed Kanin’s hand, and blinked the light of her own flashlight up at the balcony. She moved off to one of the telescopes, and focused it on the source of the light.

She moved to stand before Vincent, and made a deep curtsy. “Sweet sir! Sweet sir, ye be sent for by my lady!” She drew him by the arm to the telescope trained on Catherine’s balcony. He peered through, and saw Catherine pacing her balcony. She was wearing a heart-shaped hennin hat, and a Renaissance period gown. She paused in her pacing, and pressed the back of her hand to her forehead. She braced her arms on the top of the balcony wall, and hung her head. He chuckled.

“I prithee, go up and ascend yon tower,” implored Olivia. Vincent hesitated. “My lady is in distress, and does await thee,” she insisted.

He smiled and turned, and began making his way through the park. Olivia and Kanin beamed at his receding back, and at each other.

As Laura and Jerry led the group home, Kanin began singing,

 

I saw three ships come sailing in,  
On Christmas Day, on Christmas Day,  
I saw three ships come sailing in,  
On Christmas Day in the morning!

 

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

Vincent dropped down from the roof to Catherine’s balcony. Three chimeras burned hotly, warding off the cold. Catherine stopped pacing and spun to face him. She was beautiful, the material of her costume flowing around her. Her heart-shaped hennin was beaded, and had a short veil, and padded cloth covering for her ears. She knelt before Vincent, lowered her head, and raised her arms with her palms turned up in supplication.

“A boon, Sir knight!” she cried, not looking up.

“Catherine!” he exclaimed, surprised, confused.

“I am the Lady Catherine, and this,” she drew her arms outward, to indicate the balcony and apartment, “is the cell of my captivity. Sweet knight, I beg a boon of thee!”

“Catherine,” he was amused, but protested, “you must be freezing, get up!”

“Sir knight, I shall not rise until you grant my boon!”

Vincent was utterly charmed, but not comfortable with this performance. She had to be cold. He sighed. “Fair lady, I shall not grant thy boon until ye rise.”

“Goodly knight, noble sir! I beseech thee, I shall not rise until ye grant my boon! Take pity on me, for I am the most ardent of thy admirers—″

Vincent gave in, and played along. He took her hands in his, and knelt before her. “Sweet lady most fair, gentle as the morn, fresh and sweet as springtime buds, thy prayer most moving touches my heart as none other hath ever, nor any prayer ever shall again. I can deny thee nothing. I beg thee lady, rise. Whatever boon ye asketh, I shall grant.”

They rose together, still holding hands.

“True knight of the Table Round, I pray ye embark with me upon a quest, the nature of which will mean great risk to your body, and your soul.”

“Lady, gladly would I risk my body and my soul to move heaven or hell for thy sweet sake.”

“Promise not, sweet knight, before thou knowest the danger inherent. The way is hard, the path, steep. Hardship will accompany each step, hunger and thirst shall be our constant companions.”

“Thy beauty is food that doth content me, and thy sweet grace is drink to quench my thirsting soul. But gentle lady, what compels you to make such a quest? Thou that knowest not of mean accommodations, or harsh environs?”

Catherine smiled. “It is only by following this path to its end that I may earn my freedom from this tower, dear knight. And I yearn with all my heart to quit this tower. Although its entertainments have been magnificent, its happiness supreme—″

Vincent interrupted, looking meaningfully at her, “Its heroes are perfection.”

Eyes filled with love, Catherine quoted,

“‘Friend, to me  
He is all fault who hath no fault at all:  
For who loves me must have a touch of earth;  
The low sun makes the colour.′”[1]

He squeezed her hands a little tighter, and pulled them to his chest. He stepped closer to her, until there was no space between them. His heart was overflowing with love, his breathing deep. He bent down until his lips were almost touching hers. But then his fear overcame his desire, and he closed his eyes, leaned his forehead against hers, and sighed. She felt sorry for him, kissed his hands, and stepped back.

“But I stray from the point, goodly knight,” she continued. “This is my prison. I am captive here. I hunger for freedom.”

“All souls feel the chafe of the restrictive world. We all long to be free of our chains, and feed on liberty. Lady, are you sure certain it’s not better to ‘bear those ills’ you have, rather than ‘fly to others that you know not of?’”[2]

“Grant me this boon, sir knight, and I can promise you that you too shall taste of sweet, sweet freedom, a freedom thou hast never known.”

Vincent knelt before her and bowed his head. “Lady, I am thy champion. Don upon me thy color.” She pulled a deep green scarf from the folds of her gown, and tied it around his upper arm. He started to rise, but she laid her hands on his shoulders. She bent down, and kissed his cheek lightly.

“A kiss for luck, brave, sweet knight,” she murmured.

“Blessed by the kiss of an angel, our journey begins brightly,” he said rising.

“Let us ascend.” She moved toward the fire escape.

Vincent blinked in surprise. “Ascend? You want to go down the elevator shaft?”

“‘Elevator shaft’? I know not of what you speak. I mean to climb up to the portal that leads down to the very bowels of the earth, for therein lies our quest.”

“Lead on, my lady, and I shall follow.”

[1] https://ebooks.adelaide.edu.au/t/tennyson/alfred/idylls/chapter7.html

[2] http://www.enotes.com/topics/hamlet/etext/act-iii


	3. Chapter Three

Catherine led him down, past the Great Hall, down to the ancient structures of some previous civilization, built, then abandoned. They walked on, past the crumbling ruins, until the path became narrow, and rugged. The path forked, and Catherine pointed to the right. “Yonder is the cavern we seek,” she said.

They climbed up a steep incline that finally plateaued. Incongruous but uncaring, a small, potted rosebush was a bold splash of color against the grey walls of a small, dark cavern. Vincent reached out and picked a perfect red bloom, and presented it to Catherine. She smiled at him, took off her hat, and tucked it behind her ear.

“This is the cavern of the sibyl,” she said softly. “Before we embark on our journey, we must first obtain her prophesy, and her wisdom.”

They peered into the darkness, and there, deep within the recess, they could see a lone figure sitting cross-legged before a small flame.

“Come in, come in! Seekers of wisdom! Heroes, starting out on a quest, in search of glory!” the crone rasped. She wore a dark, hooded robe. The hood covered her face, but her wild gray hair flew out from under in all directions. She tossed a handful of powder into the small flame, and a shower of color leapt up.

Catherine and Vincent advanced into the cavern, stopping before the low altar upon which the priestess sat. “What offering bring ye for the sibyl?”

Catherine pulled the rose from behind her ear, and laid it on the altar.

“Ah, a lovely flower! A wonderful offering!” Her voice grated and scraped. “What fate awaits you both? The sibyl looks into the future!” She threw another handful of powder on the fire, and as the flames leapt up this time, Vincent caught a glimpse of her face.

“Devin.” Robed, and wearing a huge gray wig.

Catherine and Devin both exhaled gusts of exasperation. “She’s the sibyl,” Catherine corrected him.

“I’m the sibyl,” echoed Devin.

“We’re consulting the oracle before we set out on our adventure,” Catherine explained

“I must impart my wisdom unto you,” explained Devin.

“That shouldn’t take too long,” answered Vincent.

Catherine and Devin rolled their eyes at his sarcasm, and got back into character.

Devin assumed a stooped back and a tremor. He unrolled a scroll, and began reading his prophesy in screechy crone voice:

_A glove, a rose, a mirror, a ring_  
A key to the future  
Whatever it brings. 

_A key is not always what you expect to see._   
_The first key’s been used:_   
_The rose you brought me._   


_One need not have courage,_   
_If it hurt not to fall._   
_To obtain great reward_   
_One must risk all._

_Serpentine twisting, what’s fated shall be._   
_Meet your problems directly._   
_Love holds the key._   


_Slip, trip, fall to your knees,_   
_Battle with your passion;_   
_A gloved hand is key._   


_Look at yourself; what do you see?_   
_A Reflector of answers,_   
_A mirror shall be._   


_True love is eternal, don’t you agree?_   
_A journey of love_   
_Is ringing your key._   


Vincent nodded. “Is that it?” he said quietly, “After all the hours we spent studying Shakespeare, that’s it?”

“Sir Knight!” chided Catherine to cover her laughter. “Remember, you are a knight of the Round Table! Rudeness ill-becomes you!”

Vincent hung his head in mock remorse. “You are quite right, Lady Catherine,” he said. He didn’t want to spoil her fun. “I have shamed myself with my rudeness. Forgive me, Good Sibyl. I thank you for your prophesy.”

“And my wisdom,” insisted Devin.

“And thy most shrewd wisdom,” amended Vincent politely.

He and Catherine turned, left the cavern, and made their way back down to the main path.

The path led through the ruins of the ancient buildings, and they had not walked far when they saw Mouse and Pascal standing in front of a long, eight-foot high wall.

They approached them, and Mouse and Pascal bowed; Catherine curtseyed, Vincent bowed.

“Good evening, fair Lady, gentle Sir,” they said together.

Pascal cleared his throat and recited:

_One need not have courage,_   
_If it hurt not to fall._   
_To obtain great reward_   
_One must risk all._

Mouse recited:

_Serpentine twisting, what’s fated shall be._   
_Meet your problems directly._   
_Love holds the key._

And he handed Catherine a tire iron.

Pascal said, “Your first challenge shall be to make your way through the maze. Lady Catherine, you shall accompany Mouse to the far entrance, Sir Knight, you shall enter here. You will have to find each other, and exit together to win the key to your next challenge. You have twenty minutes.”

“Twenty minutes!” exclaimed Vincent.

“It will be more than enough time,” Pascal assured him. Mouse led Catherine away. Pascal gestured to Vincent to enter.

A large hourglass sat inside the entrance, and Pascal picked it up and upended it as they entered. “How can we possibly find each other in twenty minutes?” Vincent demanded.

“Can’t you use your bond to find her?” asked Pascal.

“Yes, but she will be moving. I could know where she was, but in a maze, how could I get to her before she moved away?”

“Hmmm, yes, I see your problem. All I can tell you is, trust is key.”

“You don’t sound concerned,” noted Vincent.

“No, I understand, if Catherine could sense you the way you sense her, it would make things easier, wouldn’t it?”

Vincent stared at him, hard.

“It’s a pity she can’t,” Pascal continued. “We’ve often wondered why she can’t. Why do you think that is, Vincent?”

He sounded innocent, but Vincent suspected he knew that he shielded his feelings from Catherine. On occasion, when he let down his guard, she did sense him, but those were rare times.

“It’s not like you to pry, Pascal,” he said, pulling his dignity close around himself.

“I usually don’t have to,” he answered. “I hear almost every conversation everyone has. You shut her out, don’t you?” He didn’t answer. “Why, Vincent? Why not let her in?”

Vincent sighed. “To what end, Pascal? So she could see my darkness? Darkness more terrible than anything she’s ever seen before?”

“So, you don’t think she could handle it? She’s not strong enough? She’s not brave enough? You don’t trust her to love you anymore if she saw The Other?”

Vincent turned on his heel and strode away. Pascal ran to catch up. He gripped the front of Vincent’s jerkin, turning him and stopping him.

“Vincent, she’s seen The Other. She knows about him. She still loves you. She always will.” Vincent broke his grip and strode away. “Trust her, Vincent!” Pascal called out.

After putting distance between himself and Pascal, Vincent stopped, and started pacing, slowly, stopping frequently as his thoughts deepened. _Trust her! Of course I trust her! I trust her with my life! My life has been in her hands, many times, she’s always saved me._ Calmer now, he opened his mind, and felt a sense of her, roaming through the maze, happy, absorbed in this game. The sense of her was like a cool drink, soothing him. He mustered his courage, and very tentatively, reached out to her.

She felt as though Vincent was close by, and her heart warmed, anticipating his embrace.

Her love, her warmth, her acceptance took his breath away. She didn’t merely accept him, she clasped him tightly to her heart. He put his hand to the wall to steady himself.

She stopped walking, and cocked her head, as if listening. She allowed her steps to be guided by this pulling, gentle tugging; this was a light she could only see with her faith, a song she could only hear with her heart.

She rounded a corner, then another………and she saw Vincent walking toward her! He opened his arms and she launched herself at him. He caught her and they spun around, laughing.

She pulled back a bit, and looked into his eyes, sparkling blue, clear and wide open. She nodded slightly, and he back. They understood without the need for words, they’d taken a step, a small step, but a definite step, forward.

He set her feet on the ground, but they continued to stare for several long moments, learning the sound of the song, the feel of the new touch of their now deeper bond

He finally realized he was standing on something, an unevenness under the sole of his boot. He stepped to the side, and looked down: forged steel. A bolt sunken into a recess. He took the tire iron from Catherine, and tried two sides before the third locked into place. He looked at her with raised eyebrows, as if to ask, should I turn it? She shrugged, and smiled. He slowly turned the iron.

They heard a groaning, then the sound of water rushing. The walls of the maze started sinking, finally becoming even with the level of the ground. Mouse and Pascal stood just beyond the outer rim, applauding. The couple joined them.

“You did it with time to spare,” said Pascal, still holding the hourglass; its sand was still draining from the top to the bottom. “Mouse figured out that the walls of the maze were actually floating in an underground pool. “We had to rebuild some of the plumbing, but it all still works.”

“You got prize before test with maze. Now you have to pass test to get prize. Follow Mouse to next challenge!” The young man scurried off. Vincent and Catherine tried to keep up, but Mouse backtracked several times during the course of the short journey to the Chamber of the Falls.


	4. Chapter Four

Mary and Sebastian, the magician, greeted them on the bank of the pool. “Welcome, good Sir Knight, and fair, sweet Lady,” Mary sang out. 

“Welcome to your second challenge,” said Sebatian. “Goodly Sir, you have ten minutes to teach Lady Catherine how to skip a rock. Begin.”

Vincent’s stomach lurched. “Flat rocks skip the best,” Vincent began, looking for one.

“You don’t think I can do it,” accused Catherine. She stooped to pick up some rocks.

“Fair Lady, I know you can do it,” he quietly assured her. “You want to send the stone spinning across the surface, so as you release it, you need to snap your wrist, and let it roll out of your fingers,” instructed Vincent, demonstrating the grip and the snap. He threw the stone to illustrate, and Catherine counted each time it kissed the surface: one, two, three, four, five.

And so she began throwing stones, and he tried to coach her after her every failed attempt, “Nice try, Lady,” and “Point your shoulder to the water, Lady,” and “Well done, Lady, but the flat part has to be parallel to the surface of the water,” and “You must snap your wrist, Lady,” and “More English, Lady,” and on, and on, until they both became frustrated.

Finally, with a smile and a twinkle in his eye, Vincent said, “Noble Lady, we’ve thrown in so many rocks that the water level is starting to rise.” She chuckled. He continued, “Will you allow me to guide you?” 

“Please do, Sir Knight,” she answered. He picked up a few stones, and then stood behind her, pressing her back into his chest. He cradled her hand in his, and tried to mold her fingers into the correct grip, but became distracted by the silky quality of her hair, and her scent. “You really only use your thumb, your index finger, and your middle finger to hold the stone, Lady, and you hold the sides……” as he tried to position her fingers, he got lost in the softness and the beauty of her hand. The scent of her skin, fresh and clean, overwhelmed him, and he closed his eyes and breathed her in. He rubbed his cheek lightly on the side of her head, eyes still closed.

“You think this is pointless, and that I’ll never get it,” she murmured, flushing. Her breathing quickened and deepened and he not only noticed her chest heaving, but also the cleavage of her breasts, and his pulse quickened. Her scent became stronger, and Vincent knew he was done skipping stones.

“No, Lady, I don’t.”

“Noble Sir, you do.”

Of its own accord, his free arm circled her waist. “I think, Lady, that you will never get it in ten minutes,” he said. 

Surprised by his candor, and charmed by his smile, she laughed. 

“TIME!” yelled Sebastian. 

Catherine stepped away, giving them both space to cool off. Mary and Sebastian appeared somber in light of the gravity of the situation.

“Sir Knight, you have failed the challenge, therefore, you must pay the penalty,” said Mary. 

“Lady Mary, read the penalty,” intoned Sebastian.

Mary unrolled a scroll, and read, “Tell a secret.” Sebastian explained to Vincent, “You must tell your Lady Fair a secret about yourself.”

“I’d prefer not to,” answered Vincent.

“You cannot proceed without paying the penalty for your failure,” said Mary with formality.

Catherine gasped. “Vincent, you have to!” She was so excited, she broke character.

Vincent considered. “Oh, I know,” he said, and started toward Catherine.

Sebastian cut him off. “No, you have to tell me first. I will judge whether the secret is of sufficient weight.”

Vincent looked at him, and bared his fangs a little. “I’m not sure I like the sound of that,” he said.

“Sir Knight, please!” cried Catherine. She was getting back into character, and he feared, was just about to kneel to him again. 

“Alright! Calm thyself, Lady, give me just a moment……” He stepped toward Sebastian and whispered in his ear. 

Sebastian stepped back and looked at him. “That was you? Hmm, disturbing, but not weighty enough. Try again.” 

Vincent chuckled, and thought for a moment. “Ah, I have it.” He whispered in Sebastian’s ear.

Sebastian rolled his eyes. “As if that were a secret,” he sneered. 

“Tell her this,” Mary said, and whispered in Vincent’s ear.

Vincent stepped back, annoyed. Vincent walked slowly to Catherine, leaned down, and whispered in her ear. After a moment, she looked up at him, confused. He took a breath, then whispered some more. 

Catherine’s eyes widened. Vincent stepped back and said, “I am very ashamed of myself.” His shoulders slouched. 

“Lady Mary, award Sir Knight with his next key,” said Sebastian. Mary handed Vincent a leather glove. Sebastian pointed down the path and said, “Continue on, for yonder lies thy next challenge.”

________________________________________

The path followed the river, and they walked for awhile hand in hand. He looked sideways at her, to see her looking sideways at him. They stopped, and he bent down to hug her; she wrapped her arms around his neck.

Vincent sighed contentment. “Catherine……you just feel good.”

“I feel you, here, in my heart……,” she murmured. “Vincent, thank you……thank you, for letting me in. I can feel your warmth, your gentleness, your strength…… kindness……I’m lucky, so lucky to be able to hold you in my arms……” She stroked his mane, and held him tight. After a long moment, she released her hold, took his arm, and they resumed walking. She leaned her head on his arm, drinking him in. 

After walking for a few minutes, they saw Father and Jamie in the distance, standing in the middle of the path, waiting for them.

Father and Jamie bowed. “Sir Knight, Fair Lady, we bid thee good even,” said Father.

“Good even, gentle folk,” replied Vincent with a bow; Catherine curtseyed. 

“Good Sir, this, my daughter, and I speak with every knight passing on this path, for it was prophesied that one such would be the salvation of our much beleaguered village. Sir Knight, tell me true, dost thou have in thy possession a glove, given to you of late?”

“Sir, I do,” answered Vincent, and produced the glove Pascal had given him. 

Father pretended to be amazed. “Surely you are the hero about whom it was written, 

Slip, trip, fall to your knees,  
Battle with your passion;  
A gloved hand is key. 

Sir Knight, we are most sorry to interrupt thy journey, but I fear we have no other choice. We must ask a boon of thee,” said Father.

“Think not that thy request is an interruption of our journey,” answered Vincent, “but rather, that we are eager to give aid to you, venerable Sir.”

Jamie was staring at Vincent; Father had to nudge her to speak. “Sorry,” she said. She took a breath. “Noble Sir Knight,” she read from her wrist, “a dragon most dreadful doth torment our village……” she trailed off.

Father whispered, “Wreaking.”

Jamie continued to stare at her wrist, searching for answers, but leaned closer to Father, and whispered back, “What?”

“Wreaking,” he repeated, louder.

“Wreaking?” asked Jamie, hearing ‘reeking’ and becoming confused.

“Wreaking havoc,” insisted Father.

“Oh, oh, ok, yeah, wreaking havoc and leaving death and destruction in its wake. Join me in battle with the vile serpent, and share the glory of a most wondrous triumph.” She smiled, relieved to have completed a demanding speech, but then remembered to strike her pose of ‘brave warrior determined to do battle to save her village’.

“I would be honored, brave maiden, to battle alongside thee,” said Vincent, bowing. “Where dwelleth this foul creature?”

“Yonder,” said Jamie, pointing down the path with her wooden sword. Vincent looked, and several hundred feet ahead, a very large dragon stood just inside the entrance to a cavern, its head swaying, pawing the ground with its huge claws. He was admiring the skill of the puppetry he realized it must be, when flames shot out of its nostrils. In that moment, he realized this must be one of Mouse’s inventions, and in that moment, he had a mental image of himself with his fur singed. 

“You wait here, Sir Knight. I’ll start fighting, and when I call to you, you come and help me.”

Vincent started to object, and Catherine, sharing his mental image, also started to speak, but Jamie ran off too quickly to hear them. 

“Sir Knight,” said Father, “allow me to help you on with your gear.” He produced the glove’s mate, and held them for Vincent as he pushed his hands in. He then offered Vincent the hilt of a wooden sword, leveled over his forearm. Vincent took it, and saluted Father by holding it blade up, close to his face. Father drew his own wooden sword, and saluted back.

They turned to watch Jamie. She was sparring and parrying with the dragon when it swatted her with a huge paw, knocking her down. It then lowered its head toward her, and closed its teeth around her body. As it raised its head, Jamie let loose a blood-curdling scream; blood spurted out of the monster’s mouth. At first, Vincent admired the artistry; but then, he smelled real human blood.

He started forward. When Father also started forward, he feared something was really going wrong, and Jamie needed help. Suddenly, the dragons’ head swung wildly; Jamie was struggling to get free, kicking her legs and beating at the dragon’s mouth with her fists. The dragon shook its head, snapping Jamie’s neck; she went limp. 

Vincent broke into a run. Just as he reached the cavern, something caught his foot. He barely had time to throw up his hands to break the full impact of his fall, and his forehead bounced off the ground. When he looked up, his vision was blurry, but he saw Jamie lying in a bloody pool, unconscious. The dragon raised its head and roared, and flame shot out of its nostrils, singeing his mane. It was too much for him; the injuries he’d suffered, added to the fear of seeing someone dear to him being injured triggered a rush of adrenaline to flow into his system. 

For a moment, Catherine saw red, and felt like she was going to explode. Her breathing deepened, and her heart began to race. She saw Vincent rise up, and she knew The Other was starting to take over. She stood perfectly still, and conjured the memory of listening to a Schubert symphony with Vincent. Twilight was giving way to evening, and the early summer air was cool, soft and fresh. They had been sitting in the shell beneath the first row in the park, a quilt staving off the dampness, pillows cushioning the ground and walls. They were floating far above the park on the strains of Schubert’s magical music. Vincent had put his arm behind her back, and caressed her arm gently. She rested her head on his chest, brushing her cheek against him lightly; she inhaled the heady scent of his fur and skin. She had looked up into his glorious blue eyes, then up at the sparkling stars, and she felt such love for him, her heart filled and overflowed. She had wanted him to kiss her then, she had willed it with all her might. But he didn’t, so she snuggled into his chest, closed her eyes, sighed, and hoped for the day he would.

As he came to himself, he recognized the figure of Catherine, standing a little way off, fists clenched at her side, head bowed. He became aware of Father passing by him, kneeling down to check on Jamie. He glanced at her; she opened her eyes, raised her head, looked around, smiled at him, realized the scene was not complete, closed her eyes and leaned her head back. He looked down at the sword, somehow still in his hand. He turned back to face the dragon, and ignored the sound of the arguing and complaining of the puppeteers. As the dragon swang its head, he noticed a slot in the top of its skull. 

He strode closer, within arms’ reach of the dragon. At first the puppeteers didn’t notice him, and continued arguing. Vincent tapped the dragon’s shoulder with his sword. “Strive with me, thou slimy reptile, if thou darest!” he yelled. “And do NOT flame out,” he said quietly, “you’ll set me on fire if you do.”

And so he tapped lightly on the dragon’s head and shoulders, while making it appear that he was putting a lot of strength into his blows. He looked back at Catherine; her delight showed in her vibrant smile. Catching him wool-gathering, the dragon swung its head and knocked him on his bottom. 

_That’s enough of this,_ he decided. He stood up, grabbed the dragon’s jaw, and rammed the sword into the slot on top of its skull. Immediately, the dragon’s eyes rolled back in its head, its tongue lolled out, and it fell down on its side.

Catherine threw her arms in the air and cheered. She ran toward him, and he toward her. When they met, he pulled her into his arms, lifted her off the ground, held her tight, and spun around. He set her back on her feet, but didn’t release her, and she kept her arms around his neck. He bent down and they kissed; and they kissed again; and again; once more. They kissed and they were the symphony, the perfect, heart-wrenching note, the soaring phrase, the timeless dream. He pulled her close and whispered, “Catherine……Catherine, I love you……I love you. You are mine……mine now, mine forever,” he looked into her smoky green eyes, welling, “……forever……”

He clasped her hands in his and raised her fingers to his lips. The puppeteers, Cullen, William, Michael, Brooke, Lena, Mark, came spilling out of the cavern, pulling off their face veils, replaying the scene. William was berating Cullen for failing to support the dragon properly when they lifted Jamie; the wooden frame scraped him badly across his back, drawing blood. They had operated as bunraku puppeteers, dressed entirely in black, operating the dragon by standing beside or behind it, moving it with their hands. They clapped Vincent on the back, and hugged Catherine. “Sorry about the flame, Vincent,” said Michael with mournful eyes. “That was my fault, I had it pointed way too low.” Vincent pulled him in for a man-hug of forgiveness.

Jamie got up, and with Father, joined the group. Her ‘blood’ was a mix of water, corn syrup, chocolate syrup, food coloring and corn starch. 

After some time talking and laughing together, Father cleared his throat. “We had better let these two get on their way,” he said. He got back into character. “Sir Knight, our entire village is eternally in your debt for saving us from the loathsome serpent. We can never thank you enough, but we would like to bestow upon you this, our highest honor.” The plaque, silver polished to a mirror finish, mounted on oak, was passed hand to hand from the back of the group up to Father. As he handed it to Vincent, he said, “Take it with our heartfelt thanks, noble Sir Knight.”

Vincent took the plaque and read the inscription, ‘VINCENT - For Exhibiting Deeds of Great Personal Bravery and Valor, Given with our Heartfelt Love and Gratitude.’ 

William stepped to the front of the group. “I know we’re playing a game here, but we’re serious about that plaque, Vincent. You give your heart and soul to this community; you’ve put your life on the line for us time and again, and we love you and appreciate you for everything you do.”

Vincent was overwhelmed. He hugged the plaque to his chest, hung his head down, and brushed away a tear, inconspicuously, he hoped. He managed to raise his head and said, “You’re my family. I love you.” Flustered with emotion, he reached out for Catherine’s hand, and walked briskly away.


	5. Chapter Five

“……and they love you, Vincent,” said Catherine as they strolled. “Sometimes you have to let people show you how important you are to them, even if it makes you uncomfortable. It’s important to them to express to you what you mean to them, they need that.”

He read the inscription on the plaque, and saw himself in the reflection of the metal. “The people who love us should be the mirror in which we view our reflection,” mused Vincent.

“I don’t know about that……wouldn’t we always see ourselves as being perfect?”

“Maybe not.”

“What?!” she teased him. “You don’t see me as perfect?!”

“You, my most cherished lady,” he said with a sweeping bow, “are most definitely perfect. It is my own inadequacy I see when I gaze upon you.”

“Vincent……” she began, and paused to chose the words to convey to him how beautiful he was.

“Beloved Catherine,” he stayed her, “I’m not talking about my appearance.” His steps slowed. “Before I knew you, my outlook on life was far simpler. I ate, I drank, I learned, worked, played, slept; one day was very much like every other. Weeks, years went by with hardly a ripple to mar the smooth surface of my life. Everyone who knew me loved me. And I loved everyone I knew.”

“What a world that must have been! I can’t even imagine.”

He drew her with him to sit on a flat-topped boulder beside a still pond. “I didn’t understand the heat, Catherine, the passion that people directed toward one another. Not really. I didn’t understand why life wasn’t simple for everyone. And then I found you.”

“You saved my life,” she said, looking as if she were going to become misty-eyed.

“You saved mine. Had it not been for you, I would have moved through life as smoothly as a bottomless river, flowing endlessly without impediment. You brought complexity to my life, a richness of feelings. I came to know envy, jealousy, bitter despair, bottomless pain.”

“I’m not sure that’s a compliment.”

He chuckled. “Don’t think that.”

“It’s hard to see where knowing me has been a good thing for you.”

He pulled her close. “Don’t ever think that. Now I know why people strive, why they put their whole hearts into fighting for what they want, for what they love. Now I’m no longer just a spectator. Now I’m real.”

They kissed; and they kissed again; and again; once more. He drew her off the boulder and they resumed their walk. He bent down and picked up a few rocks; he skipped them across the pond. She also bent down and picked up a rock, and skipped it across the pond, bouncing it off the surface four times.

“Catherine?”

“Oh, that must’ve been lucky,” she tried, but couldn’t stifle her laughter.

“Really?”

“You were a very good teacher!” she cried, trying to evade his grasp—but she didn’t try too hard……

_______________________________________________________________________________________________________

After a few minutes of walking, they came upon a sign saying ‘WARNING: MINEFIELD AHEAD,’ scrawled in thick red letters. Vincent sighed, and rubbed his face with his palm.

“What’s wrong?” asked Catherine.

“Minefield,” he said, staring straight ahead. He slowly turned to her. “We’re going to play a game called ‘Minefield’. It is the favorite game of the children, and the game most despised by adults. It is only played once a year, at Christmas time, as a special treat for the children.”

“Well, I think that’s wonderful, of all of you, to go to such lengths for them. Did you like the game when you were a child?”

“Loved it.”

“Great, you’re creating special memories for them.” She sighed, smiled softly, and got set to listen to Vincent share a warm memory from his childhood. “Tell me what you remember about playing Minefield?”

“I remember bringing the adults to their knees, and watching them cry in frustration.”

She couldn’t believe it; her eyebrows raised; her jaw dropped open slightly.

He went on. “I remember laughing, with Devin, Winslow, Olivia, Pascal, and all the other children, holding our stomachs and laughing until we were sore, laughing until we choked, at the adults, the men falling over pieces of junk, and the women, screaming and crying, trying to save them.” He shook his head. He got back into character. “Come, Lady Catherine,” he said, offering her his arm, “our fate awaits us.”

The path widened into a large cavern, filled with stalactites and stalagmites. Children of all ages and sizes raced back and forth, or chased themselves in circles. They were dressed in costumes, boys and girls as ring masters, soldiers, pirates, gypsies. They were all screaming, except for the ones who were crying. Vincent and Catherine slowly approached a smiling Father and Mary.

“Well, well, Vincent, time once again for your annual come-uppance, eh?”

“Father……” said an amazed Catherine, “it’s so out of character for you to be……so……so……”

“Vindictive?” Father laughed mirthlessly. “You have no idea what Sir Knight put us through with this horrible game. I still have the scars.”

“Every year around this time, there are nights where I wake up in the middle of the night in a cold sweat,” added Mary.

“Quit whining, we only had the barbed wire and mousetraps the one year,” said Devin, joining the conversation. He and Vincent exchanged a glance, and couldn’t help but laugh at the memory.

“Yes, well this year,” said Father as their laughter subsided, “I helped the children fill a tub full of guano from that cave the bats sleep in.” That wiped the smiles off their faces.

“You didn’t,” said Vincent.

“I certainly did. And another one filled with fish guts we gathered from the fishing boats as they came in to the wharf, and another one filled with garbage from the kitchen. Three days ago. Have a good game.” Vincent took off his cloak, folded it, and laid it on the ground, followed by his jerkin. He considered his boots; he stepped away, sat down on a nearby boulder, and took them off.

Pascal joined the group. “Did you explain the rules to her yet? Because I was thinking the best way to do it would be to go over the history of the game.”

Devin and Vincent nodded and murmured their agreement. Pascal began.

“Many, many years ago, children discovered this cavern. They played hide and seek, Mother May I? and Simon Says around the stalagmites. And as time went by, someone had the idea to blindfold the Mother May I? players. I remember playing it that way. Usually whoever was Mother would direct you around the stalagmites, but every so often, they’d walk you into one, and it was so funny……”

Pascal let his sentence hang in the air, and Devin smiled. Vincent re-joined the group, barefoot, clad only in a thermal shirt and jeans. He was smiling at the picture Pascal had painted.

Devin spoke, “Then one day when we were playing, I was out there blindfolded, and Sir Jerk here ran and grabbed a boulder and put it right in front of me. I didn’t hear a single sound of him doing it. Then on my next turn, I fell over it, and everyone almost died laughing.”

“Did you get hurt?” asked Catherine.

“No, just scraped up a little. But when Father saw me, he wanted to know what we had been doing, so we showed him. And things just kind of evolved from there.”

“Yes, much like a deadly virus, this game mutated and evolved,” added Father.

“It’s almost as if we’re playing two separate games in the same space at the same time”, said Vincent. “The adults are playing blindfolded Mother May I? while the children are playing Drag the Obstacles.”

Zach climbed atop a rock outcropping that allowed him a view of the field of play. He’d gotten a hold of a drum major’s mace, which he tapped on the rock as he took a few moments to survey the field. He had a police whistle hanging around his neck; he held the mouthpiece in between his teeth while he made his survey. Then he blew three long blasts, and gestured with his mace.

All the children began clapping their hands and marching around, chanting, ‘Take-your-plac-es-take-your-plac-es’. Lena led Catherine to one end of the cavern. The men, Mouse, Devin, Vincent, Pascal took positions among the stalagmites, and knelt down for children to obscure their vision with various types of head gear, football and motorcycle helmets with blacked out face shields, a welding helmet with blackened eyepieces. Vincent had his eyes bandaged. The spectators gleefully took their places at the sidelines. Once all the men were blindfolded and standing, the children all raced to a washtub filled with marbles. They waited for their signal from Zach, and when he blew his whistle, several of them grabbed a handful of marbles.

“Each color of marble stands for a thing or a person,” Lena explained to Catherine. “Like, yellow might be Devin, blue might be a tire, white might be in front. So they would put a tire in front of Devin.”

Zach blew his whistle and gestured with his mace again, and now several children ran about the minefield, dropping black rags here and there.

“Those are landmines,” explained Jamie, smiling. “Two children, each one holding a bucket of water will stand by each of them, and if one of the men steps on one, they get the water thrown on them,” she ended, snickering.

“It’s not really funny,” complained Rebecca. “Men get hurt every year playing this stupid game. I don’t know why we do it.”

“Because it’s fun,” answered Jamie. “It’s just a game; cheer up.”

Zach blew his whistle again. “Okay, now we start,” said Lena. “We go from shortest to tallest, so it’ll be Jamie, Cathy, me, then Rebecca.”

“Mother, may I take three giant steps forward?” Mouse called out, voice muffled by the helmet.

“Yes, you may,” answered Jamie. Mouse took his steps.

“Mother, may I take five giant steps forward?” Vincent called out.

Zach whistled and swang his mace. A cadre of children poured onto the field, shrieking and wielding noisemakers.

“YES, YOU MAY!” yelled Catherine, but Vincent couldn’t hear her, and he hesitated.

Zach whistled and gestured. Two children came running to Vincent chanting, “Three-step-penalty! Three-step-penalty!” and guided him three steps backward.

“Ha, ha! Rookie mistake, Fur-Face!" Devin yelled at Vincent. Then, to Lena, "Mother, may I take three giant steps forward?” Devin called out.

Zach blew his whistle. Children swarmed Devin with nylon roller dockers, chanting, “Scissor steps! Scissor steps!” Devin twisted and squirmed under the prongs they rolled up and down his arms, legs, and trunk. He took three scissor steps, landed on a landmine, and got soaked.

Zach blew his whistle and swung his mace mightily. Children raced madly, dragging lawn chairs, crates, pillows, steel garbage cans, tires to positions around and to the sides of the men. Children, either with extreme cases of hyperactivity or demon possession, ran circles around the men, shrieking and howling.

“MOTHER, MAY I TAKE FIVE GIANT STEPS FORWARD?” yelled Pascal.

“YES, YOU MAY!” answered Rebecca, yelling back.

A large wash tub filled with fermenting garbage was placed behind Pascal. Just as he raised his foot to start, three children grabbed handfuls of his clothing, and ran in a circle, spinning him. When they let go, he staggered dizzily; a child crouched down between him and the tub; two more children took him by the arms, pulled him across the crouching child, and basically sat him down in the tub.

Zach sounded a series of blasts, and gestured with is mace. Several children formed a conga line and chanted, “Zoom! Zoom! Fire truck! Zoom! Zoom! Fire truck!” They ran to a pallet that had been fitted with wheels, and a handle bar. They jumped aboard, and started pumping their legs. They picked up speed as they raced in and out of the Mother May I? players.

“MOTHER, MAY I TAKE FIVE GIANT HOPS FORWARD?” yelled Mouse.

“NO, BUT YOU MAY TAKE TWO GIANT STEPS!” answered Jamie

A crate was in Mouse’s path. Zach whistled and gestured, and two children kicked it away, but tickled him. The audience howled with laughter as he tried to brush their hands away.

“The Game Master can order an obstacle to be removed if he thinks there’s any chance a player could get hurt, but you get a penalty,” explained Rebecca

The children dumped the slimy, stinking fish guts out of the tub onto the field in front of Vincent; he fell face first into it. Then as he was getting up, slipped and fell backward in it. Devin stepped on a landmine on his next turn, and was soaked. Pascal fell down on a pile of pillows, the children squirted maple syrup on him, and he came up covered with pin feathers.

“Mother, may I take five skipping steps forward?” Mouse called out.

“No, but you may take two skipping steps!” answered Jamie.

As Mouse was stepping, the Fire Truck raced toward him, screeching to a halt inches away from plowing into him. He turned toward them; the fire brigade lifted off his helmet, shot whipped cream from a can into his face, then replaced his helmet. They got back aboard, and the Fire Truck zoomed away. “Zoom! Zoom! Fire truck! Zoom! Zoom! Fire truck!” they chanted

_Oh, that is enough of this……_ thought Catherine. It was Vincent’s turn. “Mother, may I take three leaps forward?”

Catherine narrowed her eyes and concentrated. “No,” she said, “but you may walk to me.” She visualized him walking to her, stepping over the landmines, skirting the stalagmites, avoiding stepping on the children.

Vincent started walking, stepping slowly and uncertainly at first, then more surely. As he drew nearer, the audience began to cheer for him. Catherine continued to concentrate, much the same way one concentrates on moving a limb—one just wills it to happen.

Vincent stopped when he knew he should, and he used a claw to slice through the bandages of his blindfold. He opened his eyes, and smiled as he saw Catherine smiling up at him.

Zach blew mightily on his whistle, and silence ensued. “This is highly irregular, HIGHLY irregular! We need a ruling from the judges. Judges?”

Samantha, Brooke and Kipper huddled. “We declare Vincent the winner!” Kipper called out. Everyone cheered, but no one rushed to embrace him, due to the slimy, stinking guts he was coated with.

________________________________________________________________________________________________________

 

Vincent entered the bathing cavern with a torch, and lit the wall torches. He stripped off his clothes and pulled on cut offs; he jumped into the large bathing pool. He swam underwater to the middle of the pool, surfaced, and began rubbing off the nasty mess dried on his arms. Catherine entered the cavern, wearing cut-off jeans and a tee-shirt borrowed from Lena. She carried a basket of soaps, shampoos, conditioners and brushes; she also carried several thick, soft towels.

She sat down on the edge of the pool, setting the basket beside her, and dangled her legs in the warm water. Vincent swam to her, and together they began to shampoo his fur.

He surfaced, having rinsed the suds from his mane. “That had to be the most wonderful Christmas gift I’ve ever received. Thank you, Catherine.”

“You’re welcome, Vincent. I’m glad you enjoyed it.”

“It was amazing.” They applied soap to his chest and back, and started scrubbing with the brushes. “Starting with Devin as the Sybil……that was hilarious. Then all our challenges……working through them with you was marvelous. But I think I’ll cherish most the time I spent with you, walking and talking.”

“Me, too. And I have one more thing for you.” She quoted,

_“True love is eternal, don’t you agree?_  
_A journey of love_  
_Is ringing your key.”_  


She reached into the basket, pulled out a ring box, and opened it to show him. Inside there was the most fantastic ring Vincent had ever seen. It was very large, with a narrow gold band on the edges, a wider platinum band inside that, a narrow gold band as the third layer, then a wide platinum band set all around with a rainbow of inlaid gemstones. It looked like a stained-glass window. A three carat diamond was inlaid in the center.

Vincent was astonished. “Catherine……it’s amazing. It’s such a beautiful gesture, but I don’t know how I could accept it.”

“You can accept it."

“It must have cost a fortune; do you have any money left?”

She laughed. “Yes, plenty. It wasn’t as expensive as you think.”

“I’m sure it was.”

“No, for example, you might think that’s a diamond, but it’s not, it’s a crystal from the Crystal Cavern. The rest of the stones are garnets, your birthstone. Yes, garnet comes in all these different colors. You want to know how I found that out? Olivia and I were in a thrift store, and we started talking to the woman at the jewelry counter. She had dozens of rings, all set with garnet stones in dozens of different colors. So I bought them. And I took them, and the crystal, to a jeweler in the diamond district, and he designed this ring and cut the stones to fit.” She paused, then asked, “Can I put it on your finger?”

He appeared unsure, but said, “Yes."

She was about to, then stopped. “Let’s do this right,” she said, and stood. She rolled up a towel and put it in front of her. She looked at him and pointed at the towel.

He got up out of the pool, and knelt on the towel. He couldn’t help smiling.

“Sir Knight,” she intoned, “for boldness and pluck in maze wandering, uncommon bravery in rock skipping, dauntless determination and mettle in dragon slaying, fortitude and pluck in introspection, and outright heroism in taking on this quest, I award you this Ring of Valor.” She held out her hand to take his, and he raised his to her. She slid the ring on his finger saying, “When you wear it, remember how very much I love you.”

He stood and took her in his arms. He said, “And I love you, my Lady Catherine,” and he kissed her.

 

 


End file.
